


Three Little Sticks

by steviemarie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steviemarie/pseuds/steviemarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn't plan this and you're not sure how Jean will react.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Little Sticks

**Author's Note:**

> written a couple of years ago, just starting to archive things here, so please note that this remains unbeta'd since it's original posting. 
> 
> written for mother's day 2014.

You watched as Sasha attached the cheese covered baked potato in front of her, a look of pure bliss on her face, she was really enjoying it… you, however were not. The smell of the cheese turned your stomach. Everything turned your stomach now. For the past week or so it seemed like you’d never been out of the bathroom – either you were puking up everything you dared to eat, or you were peeing like a horse. It was really concerning your boyfriend, Jean. You’d managed to convince him that you’d caught a bug from something you’d eaten, because he was talking about forcing you to go to the doctors and… well… if you went to the doctors you knew you’d have to have it confirmed and you were hoping that what you suspected wasn’t true.

You suspected you were pregnant. 

You’d done your best to convince yourself that yeah, it was just some weird thing and yeah, it would pass because this was not planned, at all. You and Jean had never even discussed the idea of possibly getting married one day, let alone starting a family. And you were scared, you were scared because you’d never really seen him around kids… other than the kids next door, who he openly despised because they were noisy and were constantly accidentally throwing balls and toys and the occasional shoe into your yard. The kids next door were a special kind of evil. He yelled at them a lot, like some kind of grumpy sitcom Grandpa. Your neighbors seemed to hate you by proxy because of it, glaring at you in the street when they saw you. Your friends hadn’t started having babies yet either, so you’d never so much as seen him hold one. 

And now there was a chance you were going to force one onto him. Because there was no way that if you were having a baby, you were going to give it up. Even if it meant losing him. You didn’t want to lose him, you loved him, you loved him so much. Everything about him. Even the ridiculous hairstyle he’d had since he was fifteen that he insisted on keeping (and you had to admit was kind of hot), even how easily annoyed he got. Mainly because that was amusing, because he never really got annoyed with you and it was kind of funny the way he insisted on arguing with certain “friends” of his over every little thing. There was a lot of good stuff you loved about him too, like 

You couldn’t force him to be a Dad if he didn’t want to, you had to let him go if this turned out to be a thing and he didn’t want to be a part of it and you were so scared. So scared that he’d walk away, so scared that you were going to have to raise a baby on your own for eighteen years. And there was no avoiding that it was a possibility after this morning. You’d been hunting through the bathroom cupboards for a new bottle of shampoo after Jean had used the last of yours, probably because yet again he’d been too lazy to take his own in (that was an annoyingly frequent occurrence) with him. And you’d found them. The unopened box of tampons you’d bought after your last period. 

Your stomach had sunk as soon as you’d seen them and your mind started working in overtime, trying to figure out just when your last period had arrived. Seven weeks ago. You were furious with yourself for not noticing sooner, for letting yourself get some consumed with work and life and Jean that you’d missed something so important. 

There was no avoiding it now. You had to take a test, or see a doctor, and soon. 

“Are you okay?” Sasha’s voice cut through your thoughts and you looked up to see her staring at you with a look of concern and a blob of potato on her face. You opened your mouth to reply, to lie and tell her that you were totally okay but instead the now familiar wave of nausea swept over you and your stomach turned, so before you could even reply to her you had to get up, to run back to the bathroom.

You collapsed to your knees as you gagged and spluttered, the last thing you ate leaving your stomach at full force. You panted heavily, spat into the toilet one last time and closed your eyes to give yourself a second to pull it together before you clambered to your feet and flushed. You wiped your mouth on a piece of paper and exited the stall, going to look at yourself in the mirror.

“So,” you jumped, a voice behind you said. Sasha’s voice. Sasha had abandoned her potato to come and check on you, you were kind of touched. “How far along are you?”

\---

 

You sat in the bathroom of the house you shared with Jean, your eyes affixed to the ground so you wouldn’t have to stare at the three white sticks that lined the side of the bath. You’d tried denying stuff to Sasha, pretended to know that you had no idea what she was talking about and you’d thought you’d gotten away with it but then when the two of you were preparing to leave your office for the night, she’d presented you with a bag. 

 

Inside of it there were three different tests. “I wasn’t sure which one would be the best.” She’d told you. “And I figured that we’d get a better result if we had more than one, just in case one of them is wrong.” You’d really thought that you’d gotten away with it, but apparently not. 

 

She’d insisted on coming home with you, told you that you’d get it all done before Jean got home and that way if it was just a fluke and it really was a bug and you weren’t pregnant, you never had to tell him that you’d thought it. And that’s how you’d ended up shut away in the bathroom with Sasha. She was currently sitting on the floor, against the bath. 

 

“Are you okay?” She asked you, her voice full of concern.

 

“No.” You admitted to her, fear nagging at your stomach. “He’s going to hate me, isn’t he?”

 

Sasha snorted. “Jean could never hate you, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. Pretty sure when he told Connie, Marco and I that he’d asked you on that first date he was never going to let you go, too. I think you’re going to be surprised, I think he’s going to be shocked but then he’s going to get over that really quickly and he’ll be thrilled.”

 

You snorted. Sasha really didn’t know Jean the way you did. You heard the front door slam, just as the alarm that Sasha had set on her phone went off. No. No he wasn’t supposed to be home for another half an hour and he had to walk in right now? 

 

“____? You home?” 

 

Crap. “I-I’m in here, I’ll be out in a minute okay?” You called back to him, hoping he would just stay as far away from you as possible right now. No, no such luck. You heard footsteps on the stairs and then he was knocking on the bathroom door.

 

“____, are you sick again?” His voice called through the door, he seemed kind of worried. “You need to stop fucking around, there’s something wrong and I’m taking you to see a doctor whether you like it or not.” 

 

You opened your mouth to try and form a lie, to try and get him away from the bathroom but Sasha cleared her throat. “Tell him.” You could have killed her. 

 

“Sasha?! What are you doing in there?” Jean’s voice sounded more worried now. 

 

Sasha climbed to her feet, casting a glance down at the sticks. Her face gave away nothing though. “You need to talk.” She told you. “You can kill me later, or call me later, whichever one works.” She opened the door, pushed past Jean who was forcing himself into the room with you. 

 

Jean’s worried expression turned to confusion. And then he saw them, the three little sticks lined up. “____?” he asked, as he plucked them up, one by one, taking a second to look at each one. “Y-You’re pregnant?”

 

Oh. Wow. Of their own accord, your hands reached out to rest on your stomach. “Jean, I can explain.” You said quickly, hoping that the two of you could talk it out before he made any rash reactions, if the two of you could make this work. You didn’t want him to leave, you really needed him to do this with you. 

 

Before you had a chance to open your mouth, however, you were pulled close to him, his mouth meeting yours as he kissed you fiercely.

 

What? 

 

He pressed his own firm hand against your stomach. “There’s really a baby in there?” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re going to have my baby? We’re going to have a little me or a little you?” 

 

He… was happy? He sure as hell looked happy about it, as he pulled you in for another fierce kiss. “I… guess so? You’re not mad?” 

 

He looked at you, confusion on his face. “What? Why would I be mad? We’re gonna be a three, you and me are going to have a family.” He paused. “Oh. You’re… not happy? You don’t want this?”

 

“No! No!” You shook your head. “No Jean, I want this, I want to do this with you, I want to have a family with you and just be with you forever okay but… this wasn’t planned and I didn’t even know if you liked kids and I’ve been freaking out ever since I realised that maybe I was pregnant. We’ve never talked about this.” 

 

Jean chuckled. “Then let’s do it, let’s be a family… I didn’t think we needed to talk about it… I just kind of figured that there was where we were headed. I love you… so…” 

 

You breathed out, relief washed over you. “I love you too. Can you maybe go into work a little later tomorrow? We can try and make an appointment and find out how far along I am so we know where we stand.”

 

He nodded. “Anything, anything for you and the… baby. God, ____, we’re really doing this. We’re going to have a baby!” He pressed another kiss into your lips, before sliding down onto his knees so he could press his lips against your stomach. “Hi, I’m so excited to meet you. You’re going to be the most loved and spoiled baby ever, I swear…” He looked up at you. “Can I call tell Marco?” 

 

You shook your head. “It’s a little early, let’s at least find out how far along I am first… so much can go wrong so early on.” 

 

“But we’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen, we’re going to take care of you as much as we can.” Oh Gosh, he was talking to your stomach again. He climbed to his feet, kissed your forehead. “You should rest. Do you need anything? Oh! I’ll make dinner, you shouldn’t be on your feet for too long!” 

 

You looked at your boyfriend and smiled, though you hoped he wasn’t going to be like this until the baby came, you could still do most things for yourself after all. Your eyes caught sight of his hands and you chuckled to yourself, he was still clutching all three positive pregnancy tests in one of them.  “There’s something you can do for me…”

 

“Anything ____, I mean it.” 

 

“You can wash your hands before you make dinner… I… you know... peed on those.”


End file.
